Digital Tradition Mirror

Bless 'em All - Mustang Pilots

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Bless 'em All - Mustang Pilots

Now they say there's a convoy leaves New York tonight,
Bound for old England's shore
Heavily laden with browned-off young men
Bound for the land they "adore".
Now they all know their Mustangs are keen as can be
To catch a Focke-Wolf in their sights
They're experts at moaning and bitching and groaning
When everything's going just right.

cho: Bless 'em all, bless 'em all
     The needle, the airspeed, the ball
     (They sent us to school just to teach us to fly)
     They sent us to solo and left us to die
     And if ever your fighter should stall
     You're in for one helluva fall
     No lilies and violets for dead fighter pilots
     So cheer up, my lads, bless 'em all.
     (Bless 'em all, bless 'em all
     The needle, the airspeed, the ball)
     Bless all the harness that fastens us in
     Bless all the radio's ear-splitting din.
     So we'll loop and we'll roll and we'll dive
     'Til we are more dead than alive;
     No future in flying, unless you like dying
     So cheer up, my lads, bless 'em all.

From The Wild Blue Yonder, Getz (Missing words supplied by RG

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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